


Mend the Broken Pieces

by Honey_Bee80



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, One Shot, Supportive Castiel, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Bee80/pseuds/Honey_Bee80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is getting tired of the practical jokes.  Cas is Dean's favorite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam presses Castiel back between the bookshelves, one hand over the former angel's mouth. They lock eyes and Cas nods minutely. “DEAN!” Sam bellows. 

“What the hell, Sam?” they hear the demon grumbling from the other room. Sam jerks his head to the left, looking hard into Castiel’s wide blue eyes. They hear Dean’s boots on the hardwood floor as he approaches the library. Sam and Cas don’t dare to breathe, both of them pressed close, bodies frozen until Castiel moves his hand in a swift flick and…

They hear the rush and immediately Dean begins cursing. “Son of a Bitch! SAM! Again with the damn holy water!? This is getting really old man! That fucking stings.” 

The younger Winchester and the angel peer around the bookshelves. The bucket is sprawled on the floor and Dean is drenched and scowling at them. “Aw, fuck, you too Cas? You guys are assholes.” The demon shakes off like an annoyed dog and stomps back down the steps. Sam and Castiel burst into snickers. Dean bellows back at them “Shut up, morons!” 

Sam is doubled over, leaning on the table, Castiel wipes tears from his eyes. Finally Sam looks up at the angel and tries to regain his composure. “You should go talk to him. Otherwise we’ll be sorry tomorrow.”

“Why is it always me?” Cas seems genuinely perturbed. Sam looks at him and promptly collapses back into peals of laughter again. 

“Why you? Are you kidding me? You’re totally his favorite.”

“I am not.” the angel grumbles, but heads in the direction of Dean’s room anyway. Dean was different now that he was a demon, there was no arguing that, but the essence was still Dean. Castiel could still see and sense his friend. 

He knocks on Dean’s bedroom door, which is closed and locked. “Dean?”

“Go away, Cas. Why don’t you and Sam go cook up another lame ass prank.”

“Dean, let me in. It was Sam’s idea.”

“But you played along. I’m getting kind of tired of this crap, Cas. Don’t you think I hate this whole demon shit just as much as you guys do?”

“We don’t hate you, Dean.”

The door unlocks and Dean opens it. He had changed into dry jeans, but was shirtless. The expanse of bare skin makes the angel's mouth go dry and he very carefully does not directly look at the demon. “Just, can you guys give it a rest?” Dean’s voice is strained and he looks tired. Castiel continues to fix his eyes on an invisible point just above and to the left of Dean’s face. “Cas? Are you even fucking listening to me?”

The angel blinks and manages to focus on Dean. He nods. He can see Dean’s true face, behind his human one, the shifting darkness there, but for some reason it does not repulse him as it should. The essence of that face is still Dean, and as such he can’t hate it. “Sam is coping with this through humor, Dean. He means no harm.” 

Dean huffs out a deep sigh and turns to walk back into his room. Castiel hovers in the doorway, unsure if he should wait or follow or leave. While he does not fear his friend, he sometimes feels tentative around Dean since his not so miraculous resurrection. The older Winchester's emotions were much more volatile now, and he is incredibly powerful when he wants to be. Dean begins to speak again. “You think I don’t know that? I mean I know you two are putting all your energy into trying to figure out how to cure me, so a couple dumb pranks shouldn’t be a big deal, but they kind of are. It might be time to consider that this is just how it’s going to be. I don’t want to spend eternity dodging stupid holy water jokes.”

Castiel rushes forward, forgetting his trepidation. He closes into Dean’s space, an action that has long since ceased to be uncomfortable for either of them. “This is not how it’s going to be. We can fix this.”

“Maybe it’s not broken.” The demon whispers, their faces only a few breaths apart. Both of them flashing back to that room those years ago, when Castiel had been the one insisting it wasn’t broken and Dean had cast him that last look so full of longing and pain amidst the flicker of holy fire. 

The two men who weren't really men stare at each other for a moment that is too long. Finally Dean leans forward and they press their foreheads together. Castiel holds his breath, but Dean exhales slightly. “Don’t give up yet.” Cas murmurs. Dean nods softly. Their hands brush just barely. Then they break apart as if suddenly startled, the demon turning away to pull a shirt over his head. The angel backpedals towards the door. Neither man acknowledge or name what had just happened. 

“I will speak with Sam.” Castiel states solemnly. 

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean offers a partial smile. 

Castiel finds Sam folded in a chair surrounded by a pile of books in the library. The tall man glances up when he hears footsteps. “Everything ok?” he asks. 

“Dean wishes for us to refrain from playing jokes on him.”

Sam makes a pouting face and sighs. “That is going to make for some long, boring days.”

“Even as such, we should respect your brother’s wishes.” The angel’s voice is firm. 

From across the bunker Dean yells “You jerks want hamburgers for dinner?”

Sam grins and yells back “Sure thing, bitch!” Then he looks at Castiel with a knowing smirk and mouths “I told you he liked you best.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this didn't NEED to be longer, but I wanted to add a little more to it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluffy little add on.

After dinner, the burgers were amazing as usual, being a demon had not affected Dean’s ability to cook, Team Free Will disperses through out the bunker. Sam goes back to his books. Dean goes outside to tinker with the Impala. Castiel goes to his own room to work on some Enochian scrolls that Sam is hoping will hold a clue to curing Dean. As the evening winds on, Sam pads off to bed. Dean comes back inside. Castiel hears footsteps and knows it has to be Dean. It’s nearly two in the morning, and Sam would have long since gone to sleep. The angel and the demon don’t technically need sleep, although Castiel is finding that harder and harder these days, so they find themselves more often than not drawn to one another during those dark lonely hours. There is a short knock on the door, then it opens. They’ve become so comfortable in this routine that Dean doesn’t really wait for a response anymore. 

“Hey Cas.” 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Thanks for talking to Sam. “

“It is not a problem, Dean. Your brother does not wish you to be upset any more than I do.”

“I’m a fucking monster, Cas. Seems kind of messed up to care if I’m upset.” 

The angel just looks at him and quirks a brow before returning to his scrolls. “I’m not going to dignify that statement with a response, Dean.” he snarks. The demon wanders aimlessly around the room, touching things. Cas doesn’t have very much in the way of belongings. His trench coat is tossed haphazardly on the chair. Castiel is half sitting half laying on the left side of the bed, ankles crossed, brow furrowed as he mouths the words he’s studying. Dean finally sits at the foot of the mattress, to the right of Castiel’s feet, and flops backwards. 

“Wanna play poker?” Dean asks, flicking Castiel’s ankle with his thumb and forefinger. 

“No.” 

“How about Twister?” the demon turns his head to look up at the angel, waggling his eyebrows. Cas sighs, putting the scrolls down and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Really, Dean?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Are you saying sorry or do you want to play Sorry?”

“Um both?” 

The angel finally concedes a laugh. Dean lifts his feet off the floor and uses them to push himself backwards until he is propped against the headboard beside Castiel. Cas reaches down and touches his hand hesitantly. Dean doesn’t pull away, so the angel covers the demon's hand with his own and they sit there in the quiet. They don’t talk about this, whatever this is. It’s just something that happens, the closeness and the touches. Part of Dean wants to reject it, the other part wants to question it. He does neither. 

“You want to try and sleep?” Dean asks Castiel, knowing that as he grows weaker, the angel’s body does occasionally require rest. 

Castiel shakes his head, but is unable to surpress a yawn. Dean chuckles. “You are a shitty liar. Close your eyes, Cas.” The dark haired angel grumbles but does as he’s told, settling onto his side facing away from Dean, but with his back pressed against the line of the demon’s body. Dean grabs a book off the bedside table, thumbing it open to where he left off the last time they did this. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah Cas?”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Shut up. My turn to watch over you, ya nerd.“ Dean cuts off in a yelp as Cas elbows him in the leg. “Knock it off and go the fuck to sleep.” Cas snorts, but stops moving. The exchange is familiar. The angel always tells him to go, and he always stays. Soon the room is silent save for the sound of breathing. Cas doesn’t snore, just makes these soft snuffling sounds. Dean props an elbow on the other man and shifts his position to get more comfortable as he turns a page. 


End file.
